


The Mithril Claw

by JohnathonKlett



Category: The Mithril Claw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7463775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnathonKlett/pseuds/JohnathonKlett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the medieval fantasy world of TriibNahn, war veteran Jack Dogwood sets out on his quest to get back his most prized possession: his mithril claw. Stolen by the notorious Gordon Ironwick, Jack is willing to do whatever it takes to retrieve what is rightfully his. The mithril claw is a bear's claw made out of a metal known as mithril, the most valuable malleable material on the planet of Malgoratha. With the help of King Ezekiel of Titanville, master archer Luther Mason, and best friend Carter Worth, Mr. Dogwood embarks upon a journey like no other; rogue lava flows, cutthroat goblins, and even an ogre! Jump into the world of TriibNahn and discover how it feels to know just how valuable something is after it's gone. Leave a comment if you enjoyed; happy reading!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mithril Claw

THE MITHRIL CLAW

 

 

 

Author’s Note:  
Before you read this story, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Johnathon Klett, and I have been writing short little tales since I was 10 years old; most of which were about the Wild West and survival situations. I then moved on to a different genre of literature: fantasy. Which is what you’ll find in this story, hopefully you’ll enjoy it.  
Prior to the creation of this story, I wrote a couple other much shorter tales set in the same fantasy world, leading up to this book (whose titles shall not be named). Anyway, enjoy the story!

 

 

 

The Mithril Claw  
by Johnathon Klett  
Chapter 1  
Skills and Kills

Jack was truly a gifted one as a boy. He was sometimes referred to as a “polymath” (self-referred, of course). Several polymaths were from Italy or some other country that popularized a delicious pie (yes, pizza). They are said to have knowledge spanning numerous subjects, but Jack was more into hands-on stuff. This story takes place in an other-worldly province known as TriibNahn. And no, you can’t go there. Silly.  
As he grew from childhood to manhood, his strength increased both physically and mentally. These grew so much that the king of Titanville (which would be Jack’s hometown; capital of TriibNahn) granted him the right to work wherever and whenever he pleased; he did not have to keep a single job, more so that he could work various jobs, amongst other things. King Ezekiel (the aforementioned king of Titanville) noticed Jack through various occupations throughout the kingdom.  
Jack started out as a miner, where he had to mine ores so that they could be melted down and forged into weapons for the royal army. He also took a job as a lumberjack, where he had to chop down trees so that the wood could be processed into lumber, which was then used for construction and other such needs. Yet another job he took on was to be a fisherman, catching some hefty salmon out of the briny blue to be sent to King Ezekiel’s waiting stomach.  
Ezekiel believed that his kingdom should be run fairly and happily, with every citizen living in peace and harmony. Everybody was qualified to apply for a job, according to their skills. These skills were evaluated when they were in high school. But since Jack possessed many skills and could not appease only one to its greatest extent, he often went from one job to the other. Literally a Jack of all trades, master of a couple things, like sleeping.  
Not only was Jack a great miner-lumberjack-fisherman, he also knew how to fight. Of course, he would only use his gift of strength in a tight spot where it was needed, and to be his only choice in said predicament. Jack was skilled in two different styles of combat: up close and personal with swords, and keeping his distance with a bow and arrow; he never was good with magic. Jack enlisted in King Ezekiel’s army, and had achieved the rank of Sergeant by age 23.  
“So there I was, center of the battlefield, nobody else to help me,” Jack said to his buddies at the Melting Ice Tavern. “Armed with a single sword, surrounded by at least 15 men. I had no other option, so I charged at one of them. My sword went so far through his heart that it came out the other side and I stuck it into the ground!” As expected, everyone raised their mugs in honor to Jack. “I was too quick for the rest of them to lunge at me, so they pooled into a type of line…who knows what they we’re thinking? Total idiots.  
“Anyway, as I was down on my hands and knees, trying to extract the freshly sunken blade, the guy at the front of the line exposed a bit too much for me to hit, if you catch my meaning. I’ll give you a hint: most soldiers should wear…a…a cup. When I finally pulled the sword out, my elbow hit him so hard that his urination process had come to an end. He wasn’t gonna need it anyway, right?  
“Every other soldier running behind him screeched to a halt after I stopped the first guy dead in his tracks. While the rest of them were too busy recovering from that train wreck, I took advantage of the delay by decapitating each of their heads with one clean slice. Unfortunately, the guy at the back of the line eventually came to, and ducked before I could add more blood to my blade. From what I could tell, he was their leader. He should’ve used goblins; they’re shorter, so it’s harder to cut their heads off.  
“He slammed his shoulder into my back; I dropped my sword as I stumbled to the ground. I then proceeded to scramble to my feet and lunged for a bow, along with an arrow that was sunk into my comrade’s arm. Thankfully, I removed the arrow quick enough and fired it straight into his left eye, and the steel head tickled his brain as he fell to the ground with a thud. At least I hope it did…Now you know the story of One-Eye Ormand,” said Jack as he finished his tall tale. His buddies raised their mugs and shouted praise to their favorite war hero. “And that’s how I earned the mithril claw.” He showed them all a silvery-white piece of metal in the shape of a bear’s claw strung around his neck.  
“Wow Jack, I sure love hearing your battle stories. Tell us some more!” said his best friend Carter, who was about 19. Everyone else urged that he continue with his tales, but Jack got them all to quiet down. “Nah, I’d rather not. I’m glad you boys want to hear more, I really am, but…let’s just say that remembering my other adventures would be a bit too painful. The One-Eye Ormand story was just the start, boys. Hell, I didn’t even know his real name; I just used the pseudonym because it fit. My other tales would be too gruesome to recall. But hey, no guts, no gory, right?”

Chapter 2  
Retirement? Nope.

“G’night, Darwin.” Jack called inside to the bartender. As Jack left the Melting Ice, having one too many shots of whiskey (or in his case, six), he stumbled on home to relax for the night. Halfway down the road to his abode, he was halted by two gangsters. “Alright grandpa, hand us your money NOW, and nobody gets hurt!” barked the bigger of the two. “Grandpa?” Jack thought to himself. Being in a drunken state, it only seemed to enhance Jack’s brute strength tenfold. Hooray for alcohol!  
Thankfully, neither of the two assailants were armed, so he was able to fend them off with ease. And on top of that, Jack was definitely no grandpa; he was only 26. They must have been extremely stupid. The thugs would have been about 15 or so. Figures.  
Jack quickly overpowered them by taking their arms, two in each hand, and throwing their bodies together so hard that their heads knocked like coconuts. Surprisingly, for two thugs who seemed to be able to move boulders 10 seconds ago, were now boulders themselves, not budging an inch from their pools of blood on the ground. “Pair of fruitcakes.” Jack mumbled to himself. When he had completed his commute home (which should have only taken five minutes but amidst a drunken state, it took about 20), he at first forgot there was a door at the entrance, let alone remember to open it. So commenced the shouting. At his front door.  
From what was coming out of his mouth, the only thing that the owners of the fruit stalls down the boulevard could comprehend was something about pie. The rest of it was lost to the air with drunken rage. Jack is insulting a piece of wood, what did you expect?  
When he finally managed to get through the door that he struggled to open, he stumbled in and plopped down on the rug in exhaust, even though his scrap earlier had woken him up greater than that of someone who was on drugs. “Finally, I’m home…mmmm, this is a nice rug…I feel ti-” said Jack, before he fell asleep, thanks to all that liquor. Literally, he fell. For hours upon hours throughout the night, he lay there, snoring louder than the roar of a bear. Now that’s saying something, isn’t it? At about 9 o’clock the next morning, Jack had finally woken up from his intoxicated slumber. “Ugh, my head hurts…I need some pie…” Jack mumbled as he walked towards the door.  
Thankfully this time, he remembered what stood between him and the outside world: wood. As he strolled down the walkway to the market stalls, he felt for the claw that hung around his neck. For some reason, it was nowhere near his face at all whatsoever, but he could worry about that later. He neared Worth’s Bakery, of which his friend Carter owned and ran single-handed, to buy some bread and a slice of pie. A little bell rang lightly as he entered the doorway. “Hey Cart, good to see you again. Get me two loaves of bread and a slice of elderberry pie, wouldja?” Jack said to his friend.  
Carter was in the kitchen behind the front room, mixing the dough for his baked goods. “Sure thing, buddy. Remember the price, don’t cha?” called Carter from the back. “Of course, friend. One does not simply forget the amount of money one needs for elderberry pie.” Jack called back with a chuckle. “Let’s see...seven garrets for a slice...three for each loaf...hmmm…” he muttered to himself as he counted out his money. “13…”  
Carter came out to the front with a pair of perfectly shaped loaves of bread; hot from the oven and full of lovin’. “Okay Jack, your total comes out to 13 garrets.” said Carter. “I knew it!” he thought to himself. “Sure thing, here’s your money, and here’s my food,” Jack said with a lick of his lips. “Oh, sweet comestibles, how I love you so…” he laughed to himself. The famished veteran had a seat nearest the counter to dine on his favorite breakfast. “Hey Carter, since you were there at the Ice last night, d’you have any idea what happened to my mithril claw? I seem to have misplaced it.” he asked. “No, I can’t say that I have. However, I did happen to glance out the window and watch that brawl you had with those two thugs. Hope they didn’t manage to steal it from you?” questioned Carter.  
“Nah, those guys ended up in a puddle of their own liquids, if you catch my drift. I mean, I was really drunk when that happened, so I probably wouldn't remember such a thing. You’d think I would, with something as irreplaceable as a mithril claw, but sadly I can’t.” said Jack with sorrow. “Don’t worry buddy, it’ll turn up eventually. All things do at least once in someone’s lifetime, am I right?” said Carter encouragingly. He nodded in agreement as he finished off his slice of pie. “I was pretty wasted, you’ve got to admit. They may have taken it when I couldn’t focus. Well thanks for the kind words, Carter. I’d best be off to find the claw.” said Jack as he left the bakery. The first place he could think to look would be at home, and he had only been passed out on the floor since he left.  
As he then proceeded back to his abode, he started to think that Carter may have been right about the two gangsters who jumped him; about how they could have taken it from beyond the dead. “Nah, that’s impossible,” Jack thought to himself. “They’re dead, there’s no way that could happen.”  
But the more he thought about what happened, the more he started to doubt his previous decision. “Those guys did have something in common, but what was it?” he said aloud. “Hmmm…they were both wearing a black trench coat, but most men do anyway. Even I do; dammit! What is it?”  
And then it hit him. The thing they had in common with each other was what they each had tied around their right bicep: an orange cloth. “I can’t believe it,” Jack said out loud. “Gordon Ironwick…”  
Gordon Ironwick was in charge of a notorious gang of thieves and murderers all throughout TriCon and then some. All of his gang members, including himself, wore orange strips of cloth around their bicep to identify themselves as part of his gang; this was something that nobody else ever dared to do. “I have to go after them and get my claw back. If I gave up fighting once, I thought it would be the only time! Looks like I’m coming out of retirement…” 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3  
The Orange Scare

Since Jack was not a fighter by choice, he was a little out of practice, so he was going to need a little help. The drunken stint he had last night was, however, drunken rage...obviously. Sober combat was something that he was skilled in only when he had a certain objective; not by his own accord. He was trained to take orders. His first choice of backup would most likely be his friend Carter, since he knew how to fight also (well, sorta).  
“Carter, I need your help with something, and this is huge.” said Jack as he entered the bakery. “Oh joy, this’ll be rich, won’t it?” joked Carter. “C’mon, this is serious, I figured out who stole my claw. It was Gordon Ironwick’s gang, and they are this close to getting strung up with their own intestines!” growled Jack, with his finger and thumb nearly touching together.  
“Whoa, Jack, calm yourself,” said Carter quickly. “Don’t blow any more steam than you’re running on. Let’s just calm down, and work out a plan, okay?” As Jack relaxed, his hatred of the gang still seemed to rise; his eyes staring into nothingness with a menacing look, his teeth gritting at the thought of them, his face crimson with fury; his muscles bulging with signs of danger ahead, squeezing his fists together so tightly that they seemed prepared to burst.  
“Alright, now Gordon’s gang probably isn’t anywhere in Titanville; he'd be too smart to stick around. In fact, I doubt they're anywhere within TriibNahn at all. By the way, did you know that King Ezekiel was actually from Viridos, not TriibNahn?” said Carter. “Stay on task, Cart. Help me out here: where in the world is Gordon Ironwick and his gang? I sure hope they aren’t stationed in you-know-where…” Jack trailed off. “What place are you talking ab- no, you don’t mean...” said a frightened Carter.  
“Yes Carter, I’m talking about Sinisterium. Second only to Hell, it’s probably the worst place you could ever go, and still be able to leave. I was sent there on a mission once to help exorcise some of the townsfolk who had been possessed by demons, but I was NOT having fun. Thank Borgadin the priests could still manage to cleanse them all, even without me. I was only there for no more than five seconds; paddled my boat away shortly after. I felt one of the demons trying to take me; one of the many reasons why I hate that place, making me look like a coward. You’ve read the news articles about Ezekiel and Lola, haven’t you?” said Jack.  
“Of course I have, who hasn’t? I think the king is probably the only one who’s been there, other than you and those priests, right? Legend has it he stayed there for a whole hour to save his would-be queen, I can't imagine the horror he must’ve gone through; no wonder he's such a devout man.” said Carter. “That’s not my top priority, our mission is to get back my mithril claw before those sons of bitches find a way to make money off of it, and I sure as Hell won’t let that happen!” Jack said triumphantly. “Alright then, so we either travel to Sinisterium without magic, unlike Viridosians, or talk to King Ezekiel and find our way to Viridos so we can talk to some mages, and they can get us there. Or...some other way; I'm drawing a blank.  
“Look, I’ve seen the maps, it’s a looooooong way, no doubt; I ain't paddling a boat all the way there. Plus, I don't think any store will pawn a mithril claw; too good for money. They must've taken it for some other reason...” said Carter. Jack sighed, “Thank Borgadin. I guess it’s time we pay our favorite king a visit, isn’t it?” Carter shrugged. “An hour in Sinisterium? Ohhhh yeah.”  
They left right then and there to Lithium Castle, where King Ezekiel and Queen Lola resided. The legend of Ezekiel heading to Sinisterium to save his future queen was actually true, as some people did not wish to believe. His grand home was enormous, almost as large as the castle in Starhaven of Viridos itself. Well, maybe not that big, but the square footage was quite impressive. As the duo entered the castle doors, there was a guard just waiting for them to enter. “Halt, state your name and business.” the guard said with a bark. “I’m Carter Worth, and this is my friend, Sergeant Jack Dogwood. We’ve come to speak to the king about an extremely urgent issue, regarding a mithril claw.” said Carter with his gift of gab. “Well...alright boys, come on in. Don’t forget to kneel, ya hear?” replied the guard.  
As the two entered the throne room, they both felt a sense of happiness overcome them as the air changed from cool and crisp to warm and friendly. “Ahhhhh, I sense with my glorious schnoz something…delicious.” said King Ezekiel with a smile. “Ummm yes, that would be us, milord.” Jack said respectfully. He sniffed over in Carter’s direction and sensed the scent of elderberry pie, which could do nothing but distract him from the king.  
“King Ezekiel, we ask that you advise us on a mission to bring back a claw; Jack’s claw, to be exact.” said Carter. “Oh, you mean the mithril claw? Good to see you again, Sergeant Dogwood. Ah, I sure did love the color of those little beauties; always glistening on the neck of someone who had rightfully earned it. In this case, Jack, you have done nothing short of earning 10 of those things...if only the people in Eristal would make more of them…Eristali smiths, ugh…  
“Anyway, I had already heard about this theft and was just waiting for you to come in for help. Jack, you know how my kingdom works better than anybody; peace and harmony. But that also means that everything should be a fair trade, am I right? Meaning, I need you to do something for me in order for me to help you. Since you are greatly skilled in many things, you should not have trouble completing these tasks that I have for you. Ummm...my queen, what do you think they need to do in order for me to help them? I’m drawing a blank, honey.” King Ezekiel smiled sheepishly as he turned to his queen.  
Queen Lola thought for a second before speaking. “I’d say... they’ll need to chop down 20 trees from the Titanville Forest, mine 10 carts of coal, and catch 150 pounds of salmon.” said Queen Lola, as if she were reading a list. “Dammit, I hate hard work...” Carter mumbled under his breath. “We’ll get it done, Your Majesty,” Jack piped up. “ You can count on us.”  
“Good, be on your way then, boys. I await your return.” said Ezekiel as he left the room. When the two had departed the castle, they discussed ways to complete their task. “What the Hell kind of numbers were being pulled out of her ass?” Carter groaned. “Easy, Cart. Let's see...well, the forest is directly outside the city walls, the coal mines are directly under the city, and Red River runs about 50 miles to the northeast of here. There’s a mine right next to the river that is connected to this closer one; we’ll ride in a minecart to the other entrance. Those dwarves use some kind of weird magic to move extremely fast,” said Jack.  
“Now that we know where everything is, we should get moving, shouldn’t we?” Carter agreed and left the castle doors to Jack’s house, to retrieve pickaxes, hatchets, and fishing rods. Of course he had these things in his house; he can work wherever he wants! The first place they decided to visit was the mine, since it was the closest from where they stood.  
As they both mined out pound after pound of coal, their faces were beaded with sweat, their hair drenched, their muscles aching from all the swinging. “Jack, do we really have to mine all of this right now?” Carter whined between breaths. “Yes, Carter, I’ll do whatever it takes to get that claw back, and your complaining is just slowing me down!” barked Jack. After two hours, they had finally mined out the coal that was required of them. “Make sure this coal gets to King Ezekiel, pronto! He’ll understand why,” Jack panted to the dwarf that owned the mine. “We need you to give us a ride to Red River,” he turned to Carter and said, “Hop in the cart, let’s get to the river. Time to go fishing.” Carter huffed a sigh of relief.  
The duo zoomed off to Red River in their minecart for their fishing escapade, even though reeling in a bunch of fish would sound a bit boring. “I’m choosing the fishing next because the salmon are pretty big this year; we’ll only have to reel in maybe two or three to reach our quota. I'm giving you a break, kid.” said Jack. Carter was extremely thankful for this, because he was just about to fall over from exhaustion.  
They were only there for about five minutes before the first salmon started to bite the hook. It was a nice fifty-pounder, so they were about a third of the way through their fishing. To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Carter was asleep against a tree, attempting to drive off his fatigue. Jack pulled in two more 50-pounders in less than five minutes, which left them with the woodchopping to do.  
Jack’s assumptions were correct: he caught 150 pounds of fish; he found an old scale along the riverbank. Finally, Carter woke up and said, “Jack, I’ll take these up to the pie- I mean, the castle.” Carter said quickly. “Did I just hear you say ‘pie’?” questioned a suspicious Jack. Carter sighed, “Ugh, yes. I wasn’t too intent on helping you with all this work; I’d rather head to the bakery and get some pie, but I suppose that it would be best to help out a friend in need.” Jack smiled at his friend who had finally come around. “Let’s get to the forest, shall we? You can have some elderberry pie later.”  
Jack and Carter hopped back in the minecart and traveled back to the oak forest outside the city walls, every single one of them in full bloom and just crying out to them, “Chop us down! PLEAAASE!” Luckily, these trees were not as big as the ones that could be found 20 years ago, which could reach the heights of over eighty feet tall (hard to believe, right?). A mage from Viridos, named Arctus Jefferson, brought a staff to TriibNahn into Titanville, and he just happened to make the decision of increasing the tree's’ sizes to titanic heights. No clue why, though. On a side note, Arctus is the president of ECoM, or the Elite Corps of Mages; an extremely secretive society devoted to magic. He is also best friends with King Ezekiel. Okay, back to Jack. “Alrighty then, let’s start small.” Jack said as he walked up to an oak tree smaller than the rest.  
“Jack, I have NO clue how you aren’t exhausted from all of this labor.” panted Carter. “It must be my desire for the claw’s return that has me going. Makes sense, doesn’t it?” Jack replied. The first tree they felled was not too big, yet their orders were to chop 20 trees. A tree is a tree, right? Along the duo went through the forest, picking out the nicest (or smallest) trees they could find. “And…*hrmph*…there! That’s 20 trees! Oh, bollocks, I’m tuckered out. I could go for some pie, how about you?” breathed an exhausted Jack while wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Finally, someone who understands me! You go on ahead and help yourself to as much pie as you like; I’ll get a messenger to tell Ezekiel that we finished our work.” said Carter with a large grin.  
Jack eventually made his way to Carter’s bakery and plopped himself down into a booth. “Ugh, I just need a few minutes of-” And Jack was out cold. Carter had arrived at his bakery about five minutes later, with a small rock in his hand, and chucked it at Jack, hitting him right in the face. “Argh, who’s there? Oh, I’m gon’ getcha!” mumbled Jack in a sleepy state. “Right here.” Carter spinned him around so that he was facing him. “Have a nice nap?” Jack yawned, “Ah, that five minutes was good while it lasted. I completely forgot to grab my pie.” Carter walked over to the counter and grabbed an entire elderberry pie, along with two bottles of brandy. “Well, all we have to do is wait for the messenger to come along and tell us when to head up to Ol’ Lithium. But for now, let’s eat, drink, and just relax.”  
The two chatted about numerous things, too many to count. And all the while they ate pie and drank brandy until they could not hold any more. “Oh, I’m stuffed. I’ve gotta lay down.” Jack said. Carter agreed as they lay in the booth, both of them asleep.

 

 

 

Chapter 4  
A Kingly Visit

The very next day, a messenger from the palace knocked on Jack’s front door. “Hi there, how can I help you?” he said. “Jack Helix Dogwood, in honor of your duties, I present to you the honorable King Ezekiel!” the messenger read from a scroll. The king’s men played a fanfare on their trumpets with green banners wrapped around them as Ezekiel walked up to his door. “Your Majesty, please come inside.” Jack said with a bow. “Thank you, Jack,” he said as he sat down in a comfy armchair. King Ezekiel removed his golden crown, revealing his vividly bright orange hair. “Since you have done as I’ve asked, I will help you get your claw back. I’ve looked into Gordon Ironwick for quite some time, and I’ve been thinking: instead of us coming to him, why don’t we have him come to us? Sinisterium is quite a distance from here; let’s save our breaths, eh?” said the king.  
“That sounds like a great idea, sir. But how could we lure him here? You just said he was in Sinisterium; anyone with a 1st grade education would know that! And there’s no doubt he’d bring his gang with him even if we could do such a thing. Heard he uses goblins nowadays instead of people.” replied Jack. “Hmmm, there might be someone who can help us. We’ll have to contact an old friend of mine, goes by the name of Luther Mason. Best archer I’ve met; you’ve heard the story of Stormpoint haven’t you? That’s him. Shot an arrow up into the eye of a thunderstorm and a minute later, it just stopped!” said Ezekiel cheerfully. “Plus he’s got a little speech impediment; hath a lithp.” he finished, chuckling to himself.  
“Right, right, I’ve heard the story. So how do we get to him?” asked Jack. “I heard that he left Viridos for good and never returned. Where’d he run off to?” King Ezekiel pondered for a second, then replied, “Last I heard he was in Eristal, learning the smithing trade. Haven’t the slightest idea as to why he upped and left. What’s so bad about Viridos? It’s a beautiful province. Anyway, Eristal can only be accessed by crossing the Whispering Canal…and Silent Creek. Plus those two are in Viridos, so we’ll have to get there first. The border of Eristal is blocked by an enormous mountain range that is completely impassable, and crossing Antelope River just isn’t going to happen; you’ll run into Antelope Valley, and guess what that's full of. I’ll let you know when I come up with a solution. Hmmm...do you have a globe anywhere?”  
“Got one in my study, right this way.” The two of them walked into Jack’s study to find a globe of Malgoratha, which was the planet that they lived on. The king also found Jack’s easel, where he started to paint a near-exact replica of the globe. “Lemme see here...okay, I think I’ve got it. Right here is us,” Ezekiel pointed to the lower left center of the map. “And approximately 300 miles to the north is Starhaven, the capital of Viridos, along the Whispering Canal; about 400 miles northeast of us is Adamantite City, Eristal’s capital. And see that little thing in the middle?” Jack squinted at the easel, trying to see what His Highness was talking about. “Hardly. What is it? If you wrote it in Viridosian I wouldn't have a clue what it was.” Ezekiel laughed and said, “That right there is known as Stag Island. Smallest little land mass on the planet. Ironically, there isn’t a single buck on the island. It’s technically under the rule of King Harrell in Eristal, but nobody really goes to the island. As a matter of fact, King Harrell is my second cousin, when you get right down to it…”  
Jack groaned. “Look, your majesty, not to be rude or anything but could you, ya know, get to the point?” said Jack, starting to get annoyed. “Right. The only person who lives on Stag Island is none other than ol’ Stormpoint. Of course, he’s known as the Black Stag around there. How the color black came into play, I haven’t a clue. Might have something to do with obsidian. Anyway, in order for us to find him, we’ll have to travel to the island, which will be no easy task.” King Ezekiel finished.  
“Um, is there any reason that you painted the water around Stag Island red, Your Majesty?” Jack questioned the monarch, pointing at the island. “Well, you see, it’s not water at all. I used red because it closely resembles lava. What does that tell you? Now, how ol’ Stormy managed to get there, I haven’t the slightest idea. He’s a master archer, y’know. NEVER cross someone that can fire an arrow at you and make it fly right down your throat, through your digestive tract and straight out of your ass. Trust me, I’ve had a really bad experience with that; don’t make fun of his lisp.  
“Speaking of things that fly, that just might be the trick to get to Stag Island. We’ll have to find some way to float over there, and that is going to be pretty tough because the only way to do that is to ride a bird there. You have two choices: the phoenix or the thunderbird. The reason we have to fly is because all of the lava surrounding the island is circled by a menacing mountain range. Nobody has ever entered the mountains and returned...well, alive that is.” Ezekiel finished. “Hmmm, I suppose the thunderbird sounds nicer than a phoenix; sounds cooler, I guess. Alright then, I guess I’ll be off to Stag Island.” announced Jack proudly.  
“Sounds great. I need you to bring Luther back to Titanville for me, because I have a kingdom to run. I haven’t got time to be off cavorting with cave trolls and ogres and the like.” Jack looked at King Ezekiel with wide eyes. “Ummm, *ahem* did you just say the O word? I’m used to killing men, not monsters.” said a worried Jack. “Well not that I liked killing men, but it’s what I was trained to do. Seriously, I don’t know how to take down a 12-foot beast!” Ezekiel replied, “They don’t get that big...do they? Anyway, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Take your friend Carter with you; he’s a sneaky guy. Ogres aren’t smart enough to look behind themselves to see if something will stab them in the back or wherever.”  
Jack breathed in and out slowly. “Alright. I’ll be off to Stag Island tomorrow, then. He better be there, milord.” As King Ezekiel walked out the door, Jack stared at the floor with eyes as wide as saucers. Jack only had one fear: ogres. Aside from his war flashbacks, he had a bad experience with an ogre on Mount Hawk in eastern TriibNahn. An ogre roared at him so loudly that he almost fell off the face of the mountain. Even though he managed to cut its left eye out, it caused an avalanche, so he half-walked/half-fell off the mountain. Jack mumbled under his breath, “I hate ogres.”

 

 

 

Chapter 5  
A Thunderous Day

Jack knocked on Carter’s bakery for no more than two seconds before he flung the door open. “Got the message. The king said something about an arrow down his throat or something. Dunno what in the name of Nancy he was talking about, though. What’s the plan, Jack?” asked Carter. “So far, our plan is to go to Stag Island in the center of TriCon. Here, I wrote down any problems we might face.” Jack handed his friend a piece of parchment as Carter read it out loud:

1\. We will have to ride a thunderbird over the Aves Mountains, while avoiding the ogres camped near the summit (note to self: I HATE OGRES)  
2\. We will have to find a way to cro-

“I’m sorry, did I just read ogres?!” quivered Carter. “Yeah, let’s just hope we don’t have to see them at all for our trip,” sighed Jack. “Oh yeah, finding a thunderbird will be a challenge, along with that. Keep going.”

2\. We will have to find a way to cross the lava that surrounds Stag Island.  
3\. We will have to find a way to convince Stormpoint to come back to Titanville with us so that he can help us get the claw back. I NEED IT!

“Yeah, that sure sounds like you, Jack.” smiled Carter. “Sounds easy enough, as long as we can avoid the ogres. I don’t like them either.” Jack breathed, “Eh, who does? Anyway, we should be able to find a thunderbird somewhere along Red River. I have no clue why, but they seem to enjoy that area, probably the salmon. Maybe that’s why a lot of the trees in the vicinity are burnt. Now the problem that we’re going to have is figuring out how to catch one. I’ve never done that before so it’s going to be tough.”  
Carter pondered for a second. “We can wait for one to come down to the river bank to eat, then I can capture it with a rubber leash. I’ll handle it because I’m the quieter one.” Jack rolled his eyes and thought to himself, “I could have expected that from you, Carter.” Alright then, you do that, and I’ll handle our supplies.” said Jack. He went to Germaine’s General Store on Halford Boulevard, owned by Germaine Waters, and bought a machete and two knapsacks. “I’ll let Carter cover the food.” Jack thought to himself. “Have a good time, kid. Don’t get your ass kicked, alright?” Germaine laughed. Jack replied with a chuckle, “Yeah, yeah. I’d rather kick my own ass.”  
At the river, Carter somehow managed to capture an enormous yet graceful thunderbird with a scar running down his eye. “I named him Thunderscar; various reasons why. He seems pretty calm for being one of the most deadly creatures in the world, doesn’t he?” Carter said, stroking the bird’s feathers with a leather glove. “Heh, he sure does. I bought us some supplies up at Germaine’s, including a machete. I know you aren’t trained in using large weapons, and the fact that you always carry a pair of daggers strapped to your leg, so I’ve decided to use it myself.” said Jack.  
“Good point, I am the sneaky type, aren’t I?” said Carter in agreement. “I’ve gathered some food from the bakery, so we should be good on provisions,” he pointed to a large heap of food nearby. “I’m ready to leave for Stag Island if you’re ready.” Jack breathed in and out very slowly before climbing onto the massive bird. “Let’s go.” The duo began to soar high above the river. Then Titanville, then eventually all of TriibNahn. Jack thought to himself, “Boy, this will be fun…”  
______________________________________________________________________________  
The traveling for Jack and Carter took three days before they reached the mountain range. Jack was especially out of it because he was suffering from airsickness. That didn’t matter, partially due to the fact that he was too desperate to find the claw to care about a wee bit o’ plague. Carter was especially afraid of heights, which was no surprise to Jack. The duo was just about to pass over the top of Mount Hawk, just before the thunderbird was snatched out of the air by none other than an ogre.  
______________________________________________________________________________  
The fall from the sky was excruciatingly painful. “Owwwwwwww…” Jack moaned. “Ah, that was not fun…” Carter slowly looked over to his friend. “Noooo, falling from an enchanted bird and plummeting to the top of a mountain is the thrill of a lifetime!” Carter barked at him. The duo slowly got up, brushed themselves off, and searched the surrounding area for the thunderbird.  
Carter began to whistle for the bird. “Where are ya, you giant freak of nature?!” he bellowed. Jack silenced him, and whispered, “Quiet! Did you not see that ogre take a swing at us? Borgadin save us, he’s back!” The colossal, smelly beast began to charge towards the two at full speed, having no intention of stopping any time soon. Carter ran away from the ogre’s path like a frightened little schoolgirl, while Jack drew his blade and prepared for battle. Jack stopped for half a second to get a look at the beast, “Oh no...I remember you…” The ogre had only one eye.  
“Come at me, ya big onion!” Jack shouted. As the entire mountain began to quake at his words, the ogre tripped over a rock and fell directly onto Jack’s machete. “Whoo, never thought it was this easy to take these things down.” Jack thought to himself. But it wasn’t. The ogre then proceeded to stand up, and simply extract the machete from his stomach, and toss it aside as if it were a twig. “Aw jeez…” Jack muttered.  
Just then, Carter furiously lept upon the ogre’s back, wielding a pair of finely honed daggers, slitting its throat from all different angles. “Take that, you big oaf!” Carter shouted. At last, the ogre was defeated. He lept off of the giant corpse, cleaning off the blood from his blades. “Ah, good ol’ stainless steel. Works like a charm, doesn’t it?” Jack just stood there in awe. “How- what- why…” Jack stammered. “I plunged a machete into his gut, and he was fine. You slit his throat with daggers, and he’s dead. I-I don’t get it.”  
“Doesn’t matter right now, all we know is that we can kill ogres. And fast. By the way, you sure have a thing with eyes, don’t ya?” Carter declared. Just then, the thunderbird reappeared to the peak of the mountain, picking up Carter and Jack in one swift scoop. As the two flew off, Jack squinted out into the sky. “There she is, Carter.” Jack pointed off into the distance. “Stag Island.”

 

Chapter 6  
Ol’ Stormpoint

The thunderbird landed just beyond the moat of lava surrounding the island, where no creature would dare to cross. Carter sighed, “Well, we’ve gotten this far; wonder why Thunderscar doesn’t want to go all the way.” Jack thought for a second. “Hmmmm…ever think about what happens when you cross lava and electricity? Doesn’t sit well with me, kid. We’re going to have to cross the moat on foot because there doesn’t appear to be a bridge of any kind.”  
So commenced the search for a boat of some sort, to cross the scorching hot lava without burning their little piggies off. Carter stumbled upon a deposit of iron ore, perfect for deflecting magma. “Hey Jack,” he called out. “I found some iron, if it helps any.” Jack jogged over to where Carter was standing. “Wonderful. Good work, son.” Jack said with a smile. “Let’s get to work, then.” The iron was easily dug up, of which Carter placed on top of a flat rock. “I’ll try to make a type of bowl out of this rock, so we can dip it into the lava when you’ve got it all.” Carter said.  
“Sounds like a plan, try to chisel out an ingot-like tray from that stone those ore chunks are sitting on.” Jack pointed to Carter’s pile of iron. The two of them began to melt the ore down into makeshift ingots, which were then cooled off in a nearby water pool, then hammered into thin plates of sheet metal. “Jack, something tells me that we’re not going to be able to make a boat out of metal.” Carter said worriedly. “Why, what’s eatin’ ya?” Jack said jokingly. “Well for one, metal conducts heat far too well, meaning we just wasted a bunch of time mining this ore; it would basically roast us alive. And two, turn around.” Jack spun around 180 degrees to meet an enormous lava flow coming straight at them. “Aw, biscuits…” Jack mumbled to himself. “Jack, what are we going to do?! That lava will cook us like a brisket!” Carter whined. Jack’s eyes searched the area hastily, looking for an escape route. “Look!”  
Jack pointed over to the lava moat, and there was a black, glassy boat-like structure coming towards them. “Hop in, let’s go!” So the two of them quickly scrambled into the boat, hoping that it would protect them from the oncoming magma. “Aw man, I don’t wanna die like this,” Carter whined. “I wanted to have a wife and kids, a better life for myse-” Jack slapped his hand across Carter’s right cheek. “Shut up, Cart. We’re not gonna die. Besides, you couldn’t get a wife even if you tried.”  
The lava flow began to engulf the boat, slowly but surely. All of a sudden, a strange force began to move the boat, further towards the island. “What’s happening?” Jack said. “Something is moving us, and it ain’t the lava!” Off in the distance, there was a dark, hooded figure holding a black chain, pulling the boat towards them. Once they reached the other side, Carter quickly jumped out of the boat and embraced this thing that saved their skins. “Ohhhhh, thank you sooooo much! I thought I was a goner!”  
“Get up, man. Have “thumb” dignity!” boomed the figure. “Wait a minute.” Jack thought to himself for a second. “King Ezekiel told me that Stormpoint had a lisp…” Carter slowly let go of the man, backing up with his head hung down. “Ummm, Luther?” Jack said meekly. If looks could kill, he would have smoked a dragon. “Where on Malgoratha did you hear that name? Who are you working for?!” he roared. “Yep, that’s him.” Jack thought to himself. “We’re working for King Ezekiel Thatcher. Ya know, the ginger? He likes the color green.” Carter said, regaining a morsel of courage.  
Stormpoint was dumbfounded by these two strangers. They knew so much about one of his closest friends in the world. “I- how did- who are you?” he stuttered. “My name is Jack Dogwood, and this is Carter Worth. We’ve come to see if you could help us get something back from a gang that stole it.” Jack said loud and clear.  
“Hahahahahahahahaha!!!” Stormpoint guffawed at Jack. “You’ve come all this way, over mountains and rivers, for days on end, just so I could help you get back a little trinket you lost? Fat chance, kid. I don’t even know you young’uns. I don’t have time for this.” As Luther walked off, Carter whispered to Jack, “Now how will we get back your claw?” The old archer stopped dead in his tracks. “Did you just say ‘claw’? As in mithril claw?” he said with much surprise. “Ummm...yes, sir. Gordon Ironwick and his gang stole a mithril claw from Jack.”  
Luther’s eyes looked around the area quickly, then he said, “Follow me. Hurry!” The three of them sprinted towards what appeared to be a building, made entirely out of obsidian. “Get inside, quick!” Luther said loudly. He slammed the door shut and spun around while removing his hood, revealing his tan-skinned face to the duo. “Okay, now how do you know Ezekiel? Answer me!” he shouted.  
“He needs to take his medication…” Jack thought to himself. “Gordon Ironwick and his gang stole my mithril claw, and the only place that they could possibly be is in Sinisterium. We need your help getting there.” Luther stood there and chuckled to himself. “We are technically in Eristal, and I did come to Stag Island to learn the smithing trade.” he hinted to them. Carter stood there with a blank face and said, “I have absolutely NO clue what you’re talking about.”  
Luther sighed, getting quite annoyed. “Oh, for the love of...I’m the one who makes the mithril claws! I’M AN ERISTALI SMITH!” he shouted. “Well, that explains why ol’ Zeke sent you to me.” Carter cowered in fear of Luther, wiping the layer of spittle off of his face. He sighed then, “Anyway, I’m also the one who makes fake mithril claws. See what I’m getting at? Look, I’d be more than willing to make you a brand new claw, but my supply has run out.” Jack nodded with a grin, because he had a plan to get back his claw: swap the fake claw for the real one. “See, I’m from the Jasper Desert, which explains why I live so close to lava; I enjoy the heat.” As Luther went on rambling to Carter about Borgadin-knows-what, Jack began to walk off, while silently devising a plan in his head.  
“Hey. You.” Luther called over to Jack. “Mr. Dogwood, if you please. Come hither.” Jack groaned as he walked back towards the two. “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming. Whatcha need?” he said. “There’s two main things that we need to do here: one would be to create a fake claw; I’ve got that covered. And number two would be to figure out where this Gordon punk is hiding in, what is it, Sinisterium? Boy, when we find him, imagine the look in his eyes when we blast in there!” Luther laughed to himself.  
And then, out of nowhere, it hit Jack: eyes. One-Eye Ormand lost one. The main reason that Jack used the name Ormand for his war tale was because that is what he thought he heard one of his evil henchman shout as he died. Ormand sure sounds a lot like Gordon. After Jack shot Ormand in the eye with an arrow, he never waited to see if he was actually dead. But the most peculiar thing about him was that he had something tied around his right bicep...you guessed it, an orange cloth! “I can’t believe it,” he thought. “Gordon Ironwick is One-Eye Ormand!”

 

Chapter 7  
A Cornered Tiger

“Guys, you’ll never believe me when I tell you, but I just figured out something that is just appalling!” Jack called over to Luther and Carter as he began to run towards them. “Don’t tell me, you grew your first bit of facial hair?” Luther said jokingly. Jack scoffed, “No…” he quickly felt his chin for any stubble; he then sighed, “...no. Listen, I’ve made a groundbreaking discovery that you might want to know. Okay, get this: Gordon Ironwick and One-Eye Ormand are the exact same man!”  
Carter stood there, mouth agape. “Y-you-you’re…” he stuttered. “You’re k-k-kidding me!” Jack shrugged, “I can’t believe it either. One of Ormand’s henchmen shouted his name after he got shot in the eye with an arrow. I was almost certain he shouted the name Ormand. Almost. I never checked to see if he was actually dead or not. The big thing is that when I tried to end his miserable life, he had an orange cloth tied around his bicep; THAT’S what really caught my eye.  
“It didn’t look as though the arrow went into his head far enough; I began to run as soon as the arrow hit...maybe it stopped short of his brain, or just missed it?” Carter remained speechless, so Luther spoke up. “Well, there goes making a fake mithril claw. But kid, after hearing about this orange cloth stuff, I think you have some unfinished business to attend to. I’ll do what I can.” he said with a worried look. Jack began to stomp away from them, muttering of his hatred for Gordon. “Son of a bitch...guys, we need to get back to Titanville as fast as possible!”  
Carter let out a high-pitched whistle to attract Thunderscar. A loud screech came from the other side of the lava moat, where the gargantuan bird was sitting. “Oh yeah,” Carter groaned. “The big guy doesn’t like lava. Or hazelnuts, now that I think about it. I tried giving him some on the way here but he just pecked at me…” Luther quickly dragged the back side of his hand across Carter’s face. “Shut up, Carter!” he barked at him. He began to whimper and back off slowly. As they began to get in the obsidian boat, Carter squeaked, “Ugh, why does everyone do that to meeeeee…”  
Even with three people on the thunderbird, there was plenty of room to move about; six people could fit on Thunderscar’s back comfortably. “Aaaaaaand here we gooooooo! Hope I don’t fall off!” Luther laughed to himself as they began to soar high above the mountains, Stag Island far out of view from the trio of men. “Say, what’s that bag for?” Jack pointed to a small black leather bag Luther had strapped to his belt. “Doesn’t look like any kind of knapsack, friend.”  
“This here? Oh, well it’s quite the story, kid. See, back when I was still in touch with Ezekiel, we all fought together in a warrior clan known as the Steel Hawks. I was the best archer in Viridos, so it was my job to teach all the new members how to shoot a bow. Properly. Now, Ezekiel was skilled in the art of swordsmanship, while another friend of our’s named Arctus Jefferson, you’ve probably heard of him, was to teach those who wanted to use magic to defend themselves. He’s a little, well, odd; eats meat raw, talks to animals, that kind of thing. Apparently, he is also immune to most poisons and other toxic substances...lucky...  
“We had to do all this training and such because Viridos was a dangerous place 20 years ago; goblins running amok, attacking whomever they pleased. These things came straight from Sinisterium, I can tell you that. They were involved in all this orange cloth business, so I figured, “If they want to take over Viridos, they’re gonna have to get through the Steel Hawks first!” My assumption is that Mr. Ironwick replaced his goblins with actual people because of what happened, when they tried to invade Starhaven; that’s right, they’re his goblins. How they managed to get into the country, I haven’t the slightest idea. My theory is that they went to the north coast of TriCon, then went south down Silent Creek, steered west into the Whispering Canal and ended up in Starhaven.  
“I’d assume that they didn’t take the much closer Platinum River route for two reasons: one, they would have to go against the current of the waters. And two, Platinum River is mainly used for trade, so they would have run into a lot of merchants going that way. I guess goblins aren’t that stupid after all. Nonetheless, they’re a bunch of nuisances that aren’t worth my time...or so I thought. A few goblins, I can take on my own; piece of cake, right? But five thousand goblins? By Borgadin, that’s quite the challenge. We weren’t outnumbered, though; both of our armies were about the same size. We fended them off, about half of the enemy was exterminated from the city, so they retreated down the rest of the Whispering Canal into the Emerald Sea, headed back north, across the Sapphire Sea, then back to Sinisterium. But they managed to kidnap Lola Parson, and well, you know that story. Mr. Ironwick learned from that failure, no doubt. If you want backup, make sure they’re not goblins.  
“King Ezekiel’s army all started with the original three Steel Hawks; he became the king of TriibNahn a year later, took half of the army with him. Now, the reason that I have this bag is because of what is inside.” Luther reached into the bag and pulled out four or five medium-size black, glassy cubes. “These things are made of pure obsidian. I’ve got about 500 of these little buggers. You see, before I left Viridos to be a blacksmith, Arctus taught me a few tricks about magic. For years, I constructed thousands of warrior statues made of obsidian, and I made it so that they could shrink down to a millimeter tall, then they’d morph together to form into cubes.” He held up one of his cubes and said, “In one cube is about 10 obsidian juggernauts.”  
Jack was truly amazed at all this information being thrown at him. “Wow...if you can manage to forge all these warriors, shrink them down to a millimeter tall, stick them together into a cube and put them in a bag, surely you must be able to restore them back to their original size? And, more importantly, can they fight?” Jack asked. Luther chuckled and said, “Definitely. Mr. Jefferson also taught me some animation charms. They follow orders easily, and only obey their creator…” he pointed his thumb at himself. “...which is me. And since obsidian is fairly brittle, he taught me how to enchant the obsidian, making it indestructible. Much like mithril, which actually is indestructible, once heated correctly, but that stuff is hard to find. Like I told you before, my supply ran out. Do the math, and you got yourself about 5,000 soldiers.”  
______________________________________________________________________________  
The last three days of traveling it took to get to back home to Titanville was smooth sailing for the trio. As they passed over Mount Hawk on their second day, they saw the carcass of the ogre that Carter managed to slay. “Damn, kid!” Luther shouted. “You took down an ogre? Nice work son!” he patted Carter on the back. Jack thought to himself, “Y’know I helped...kinda…” They finally crossed the Red River, and saw Titanville in the distance. But something was wrong: fire. Everywhere. Total chaos had been unleashed on the city; goblins attacking the townsfolk. Big surprise, they were clad in orange chain mail. Thunderscar better go faster!  
As soon as the bird landed outside the city gate, Jack hopped off and sprinted as fast as he could to the only place he could think of: the Melting Ice Tavern. Thankfully, Darwin was still alive, hiding behind the counter with a meat cleaver in his hand. “Darwin! What on Malgoratha is going on here?!” he yelled. “I haven’t got a damn clue! All of these goblins just came in on the river and began ransacking the city! Lithium is in much worse shape; you need to get your ass up there and see if the king is still alive!” Darwin shouted.  
When Jack managed to reach the steps of Lithium Castle, Carter and Luther were bashing their shoulders into the door as hard as they could. Jack took a few steps back, and charged up the steps and broke through the doors. An enormous steel lock was keeping the doors shut. “Luther! Get those cubes out and give me your bow!” Jack barked at Luther. He handed over his trusty bow and his quiver of arrows while whispering a chant into the bag. All of the statues ripped the bag to shreds; in less than three seconds, there were 5,000 obsidian warriors in the main hall of the palace. “Eliminate every damn goblin in this city! NOW!!!” Luther shouted at them. “I gotta find Ezekiel!” Jack yelled. The obsidian warriors began to move, running towards large groups of goblins and bashing their heads in with the hammers they had for hands.  
Jack sprinted up the stairs of the palace, searching high and low for King Ezekiel, he finally found a set of double doors with golden doorknobs. He busted in there and found King Ezekiel being held hostage by none other than Gordon Ironwick, aka One-Eye Ormand. He immediately drew an arrow and had it nocked, ready to strike. “Well, well, well...fancy meeting you here, Dogwood. Here to save your king, are ya? Or do you just want you claw back?!” Gordon sneered at him. Jack took a second to examine his surroundings. Queen Lola was lying on the bed, throat slit; dead as a hammer.  
But the biggest thing that he found was the item that Ironwick was holding, ready to murder King Ezekiel: Jack’s mithril claw. “Boy, this little thing sure is nice, ain’t it? Oh, but you didn’t quite finish the job when you sunk an arrow into my eye, did you?!” Gordon barked as he began to push the tip of the claw through His Majesty’s throat. “Zeke here was the sorry bastard that gave the order to kill me, and I’m getting my revenge! As long as I’m alive, you don’t deserve this claw. Time to say goodbye, friend.” Ezekiel gasped for air, but it was too late. His eyes rolled back, but before his life had come to an end, he groaned with his last dying breath, “...King...Jack…” The arrow began to fly as Ezekiel fell on the floor to his death. The only spot that Jack could aim for was Gordon’s face, specifically the eyepatch covering his left eye socket. It went straight through the eyepatch, and all that could be heard was a loud splat.  
“Finally...GORDON IRONWICK IS DEAD!!!!!” Jack screamed at the top of his lungs. He reached down and extracted the freshly sunken arrow from his eye socket; along with the eyepatch, of which he stuffed into his pocket; he was saving it for later. At last, Jack bent over to pick up his beloved mithril claw. “I think I deserve this claw now, Mr. Ironwick. I finished the job.” As he hung the claw around his neck he said, “Nobody messes with Jack Helix Dogwood. Nobody.” As he began to walk out of the room, he remembered the last thing that King Ezekiel said to him. “...King…Jack…” He thought to himself, “Looks like I’m the new king of Titanville.”  
Before departing from the room, he said to the corpse of Gordon Ironwick, “Goodbye...friend.” Before Jack’ walked out of the bedroom, he noticed that there was some type of spirit leaving Gordon’s body. “What the...is that...are you…” Jack struggled to get it out. This spirit was not just any kind of spirit. This was a demon. “Wait a minute...you look familiar…” When Jack went to Sinisterium, he had almost been possessed by a demon. This demon that was leaving his body looked strikingly similar. “Nah, different demon...I’m getting out of here!” he barked at the demon. He then exited the palace doors, turned around and looked at Lithium Castle. The only place that Jack could think to do was to get a well-deserved shot of whiskey at the Melting Ice. Nothing more, nothing less. As he walked through the door, he saw Darwin the bartender. “Hey buddy, I need a shot. Finally finished the job.”

THE END

 

 

 

 

 

After the death of King Ezekiel, Jack took the throne to become the new ruler of Titanville. Carter took on the role of his advisor, which left Thunderscar without a care-taker. Luther decided to take over as his owner, and took him back to Stag Island to keep as his companion. King Ezekiel and Queen Lola were buried next to each other in the Royal Cemetery in Titanville, while the body of Gordon Ironwick was cremated and placed in a golden urn.  
Jack kept the urn in his master bedroom as a trophy for his victory over him, along with his eyepatch. Jack ruled over TriibNahn for over 50 years, making him the longest reigning king in history; he never had a queen. He wouldn’t need one, considering his leadership abilities and heroic actions and such. Even after he took the throne and became all high & mighty, he still hung out with his buddies at the Ice; three shots a day. Every night before he went to bed, Jack always said to himself, “I finished the job. The claw is mine!”


End file.
